a journey in twelve parts
by piratesmiley
Summary: "Have you ever thought about painting it to look like The Mystery Machine?" In which Trip and Skye take the van and go on a road trip.


A/N: This was written before the finale so some of the details are off. But you get the idea.

* * *

1.

"So," Skye says.

"So," Trip smiles back.

"HYDRA's been defeated. Wrongs have been righted. We're all out of a job, but…" She trails off with a grin.

"Hey, at least we did something good."

"What are you going to do now?"

"You mean since I'm on vacation again?"

She nods.

"I honestly don't know." But he doesn't seem to be worried. He's at peace, like the empty stretch of road ahead of them doesn't bother him. He'd be the only one. Coulson's lost without SHIELD; May's rarely at peace; and Fitzsimmons have been having perfectly-synced panic attacks hourly since they realized the mission was over.

Skye doesn't know how she feels.

"Nothing to rush back to?"

"Not really."

"You know," she says, in that way that means he doesn't know but he's about to, intimately, "I happen to have a van. A great van. I can drive you to wherever you're going."

They're in LA. He could hail a cab. His mom lives here. He could go there.

"What if I don't know where I'm going?" he asks, leaning against the wall.

"Then I'll drive you around till you figure it out. I don't have anything better to do."

It doesn't take long for him to deliberate.

"Sounds like a good offer."

"It is. Very few get the privilege."

He raises his (perfect) eyebrows.

"Of meeting my van, I mean," she scrambles.

"Of course."

"Right."

Right.

* * *

2.

Trip's not a judgmental guy, but she can feel something rolling off of him as he eyes it.

She takes his bag and slings it in the back while he regards it in silence.

When she returns to his side, he gives her a look.

"So," he says.

"So?"

"Have you ever thought about painting it to look like The Mystery Machine?"

She drops her chin in dry disbelief. "The Mystery Machine?"

"You know, from Scooby Doo."

"I _know_ it's from Scooby Doo," and she openly gapes at him. _Who is this guy._ "Listen, I'm going to give you a free pass because this is the first time you've met her, but we don't make a mockery of the van."

He holds up his hands in surrender. "My bad." When he rounds the front, he gives the hood a pat. "Sorry, girl," and it's directed to the van. He opens the door and gets in gracefully.

Who is this guy. Really.

* * *

3.

"I do have a problem with you though," she says, in that way that means _I really have no problems with you_ as she passes a semi on the left. Trip grips the dashboard.

"Oh yeah?"

"Just. Before you showed up I was the one on the Bus that could get people to do things with just my smile. Now I think you've outshined me."

He laughs, and it's an unburdened sound. He's shed his (apparently SHIELD-required, form-fitting, utility) jacket, and his t-shirt is just the right amount of drape-y over what must be an impeccable torso. Top-grade. State of the art.

"I didn't mean to step on your toes," he says affably.

"Of course you didn't, you fucking gentleman," she says, throwing him a look.

"Girl, keep your eyes on the road."

"My driving is _great_." And when she merges back right, she puts on her turn signal and everything.

* * *

4.

"We're basically outlaws," Trip says, putting his arms behind his head as he lays back onto blanket on the sand. She sits crosslegged next to him, but she's looking up, too.

The stars are impressive. More impressive than she is. She doesn't belong up there. If she had grown up out there, she probably still wouldn't belong.

"No, we're not," she scoffs, "Coulson may have cut the worst deal in the world with the military, but we're technically scrubbed clean."

"Just let me have this, will you? I was brought up for SHIELD. I've never done anything that wasn't this."

"Mr. Legacy," she notes, unwrapping one of many burgers they'd gotten a few miles back. "You and I are very different."

"We were brought up very differently," he corrects. "But you've got some fire. So do I."

She appraises him. Jesus christ, he is a marvel.

"You are genuinely content to be living in your own head."

He shrugs. "Hey, we've all got shit. Garrett fucked me up pretty bad, but we made it right. There's no use letting it eat at you."

She remembers telling Coulson something like that once. She's a little surprised she forgot to believe in that. But Trip's right - they have a lot of shit.

Maybe she'll spend this time clearing through it.

"Just eat your junk food while you can," she says, rolling her eyes. "This is all temporary."

He just keeps smiling.

* * *

5.

"I can't believe the two of you chose to work through vacation."

Computer-bound Jemma sighs in that way that means _you know that's not what it is_. "This _is_ vacation, Skye. Fitz and I have hardly got a chance to do anything related to our interests in ages. At Stark Industries we get to work on our projects, talk to our peers, and-" She leans in really close. Skye can see a pretty impressive shot down her shirt. "We can start looking into your physiology," she stage whispers.

"I miss you guys," Skye says. It's weirdly true. Skye's never had the opportunity to miss anyone.

"We miss you too," Jemma says. "You could always come back to LA, you know."

"Trip likes the desert."

It's not a real answer, but Jemma doesn't have time to say so. "Does Trip miss us?" Fitz calls from off-screen.

"Trip," Skye asks as he returns from the bathroom. "Do you miss Fitzsimmons?"

He smiles and slides into the booth next to her, taking an earbud from her offering hand. "Indeed I do."

Fitz comes scrambling into frame when he hears Trip's voice. He leans his chin on Jemma's shoulder. "Hello, Trip."

"What's up, Fitz?"

"Hey."

"Hey."

"They've developed some sort of primitive code that we do not understand," Skye says to Jemma.

"Hey, we deserve it. You two have _manscaping_," Fitz says defensively.

"Actually, we have a new code word," Jemma says primly.

"Why?"

"Because everyone knew our old one."

"Will you tell me?"

"No, Fitz, it's private."

"_Private,_" Fitz scoffs. Skye gives Trip a sidelong glance. "What a load of-"

"_Goodbye_ guys," Skye says.

She shuts her laptop. Trip is still sitting shoulder-to-shoulder next to her in the booth.

"Do you want to order dessert?"

She holds in a moan.

"God, yes. Yes, I do."

* * *

6.

"I found a direction for us!" Trip proclaims loudly, bounding up to her as she gasses the van with a godforsaken _paper_ map, a grocery bag full of snacks, and two novelty T-shirts, a blue and a pink. He tosses the blue one to her.

"_Nevada: Whores and Poker_," she reads. "We didn't even go to Las Vegas."

"They have whores and poker in other parts of the state, I'm sure."

He spreads out the map - a paper map, a fucking paper map - on the hood of the van. She pulls the nozzle out of the fill spout and screws on the gas cap. She pushes her sunglasses to the top of her head as she hovers over the tri-state area.

He points excitedly to a spot on the map. "Do you know what this is?"

She sighs. "Tell me."

"The Grand Canyon."

He says it like he's discovered a way to make make water into wine. He's waiting for a reaction.

"Cool?"

"Have you ever _seen _the Grand Canyon?"

"No."

"It's tight, okay. It's incredible."

"I forgot, for a moment, that you're almost as big a nerd as Coulson."

"Rookie mistake, girl. I am definitely a bigger nerd that Coulson."

She doubts that, but he ignores her disbelieving look.

"It's an American institution."

"I'm Chinese. And an alien."

"You grew up in America. This is something you should see. And something I could definitely see again."

She sighs. Shrugs. "Well, Coulson will be proud, at least."

He smiles, gathering up his map carefully. Nerd.

* * *

7.

**Received**: 1:27 PM

A selfie of a wild-eyed, wide-smiling Jemma; a just _barely_ keeping-it-together Fitz; and a sunglasses-clad, devil-grinning Tony Stark.

**Sent**: 4:56 PM

A selfie of Skye, one eyebrow raised, and laughter-struck Trip pointing to the blow-up Thor sex doll between them at the roadside "adult" shop they stopped in. Because of reasons.

_Guess we both met an Avenger today._

* * *

8.

"God," she says. She's genuinely shocked. She knows what it's supposed to look like, but being here is different.

It's near sunset. Everything is fading blue into pink, casting shadows and beckoning new colors out of the vast walls.

"Stuff like this makes me believe in America," Trip says goodnaturedly, coming up next to her. They've both been drinking a bit, safely parked a little ways away.

"This was here before America," she says in her know-it-all voice.

"You sure about that?"

"I'm like pretty fucking sure." She's quiet for a moment. It's so big.

"It's so _big_," she says.

"You might even say it's _grand_."

"I'm a city child. I've never seen this much empty space."

"It makes you feel small."

"I already feel small," she says. He looks at her in question, and she looks heavenwards. He gets the gist.

"You're not small, though." He takes another sip and eyes her for a moment. "I mean you're a little thing, sure. Maybe your position in the universe is even smaller than you thought it was. But small things can be important. SHIELD was designed to be compartmentalized. Coulson's team was one of thousands. It should've been pretty insignificant in the grand scheme of things, but we ended up taking out the Clairvoyant and Centipede in one swing."

He pauses. "You are a part of something big. You're important."

Canyon air is filling her chest.

"So are you."

"Well, thank you," he says with a smile, bottle already to his lips.

"No, really," she says. "I don't know if anybody told you this but you were kind of amazing. We lost a lot, and so did you. And then we lost even more, but you were still there for us. That's important."

"Thank you," he says, voice lower. He means it.

"We're a weird bunch of people," she says. "We got attached to each other way too fast. We basically spend all of our time trying to protect each other by recklessly putting ourselves in harm's way. We don't know how to stop when we should. One time Fitz and I almost got into a fist fight over which one of us is snarkier, which doesn't really put us in the sane category."

They each huff a little laugh. "Based on my relatively short experience with all of you, I'd say that's true."

"I guess my question is, are you going to keep being a part of something important?"

He smiles wide and looks out into the openness. "I thought we were out of a job."

"_Please_. Like we could keep away from trouble."

"Then yeah, I want to stay with the team. If you'll have me."

Sunset gives her eyes a strange glow. "The twins are half in love with you. You're the first person May's been able to train with for a long time. Coulson is already kvelling over your cool SHIELD history. And I think you're alright."

"Alright," he repeats.

"So yeah, we'll have you."

"Then I'll have you back." He pauses. "The team, I mean."

"Right."

Right.

* * *

9.

The stars are even more obnoxious in this bit of desert, but her eyes are closed.

Objectively, Trip is a great kisser. He tastes like beer, and...being a grown-up? Something like that, anyway.

He pulls away. Damn. His big giant hands are still on her shoulders though. "Where are we heading with this, Skye?"

She shrugs. "I don't really have a direction."

"We better stop here, then. You know, before it becomes too difficult for you to control yourself."

"Too difficult for _me_?"

He laughs loudly.

"I'm not kidding, Trip," she says. "I used to be the hot one on the Bus."

"I'm sure you were."

"_Really._"

"I don't doubt it."

"Prick."

* * *

10.

**Sent**: 8:23 AM

A picture of Skye, glowing against the canyon sunrise.

**Received**: 8:51 AM

A poorly-framed selfie of Coulson, in open-mouthed surprise and pride, looking at the screen instead of into the camera.

* * *

11.

"I feel like you're not paying close enough attention to the road," Skye says.

"You're kidding me, right?" Trip's hands are steady on the wheel. His eyes are steady on the road. She just wants to piss him off a little.

"Just be careful with my baby, okay? She's sensitive."

"She's sensitive?" He says in disbelief. "Big sturdy hunk of metal is more like it."

"Pull over! I'll kick your ass right here, right now."

"Can't really pull over at the moment."

She observes the bumper-to-bumper traffic they're sitting in on their way back to Malibu.

"Fine. But just know that I could."

"I believe it."

She smiles at him. He smiles back.

"Eyes on the fucking road!"

He sighs.

* * *

12.

"Did you bring us anything?" Fitz asks.

Trip tosses each of them a shirt.

"ARIZONA HAS ROCKS," Jemma reads. She gives him a look, head cocked.

"So are we allowed to be on the roof of Stark Industries?" Skye asks.

"Not technically, but Mr. Stark has made it available to us," Jemma responds.

"He likes us," Fitz says, giddy.

"Apparently we solved a number of problems for Ms. Potts upon our arrival to R&D."

"Problems?" Trip asks.

The pair of them launch into a story that goes completely over Skye and Trip's heads. She side-eyes him, and after a moment he catches her.

_Thanks_, she mouths. He dips his head.

Yeah, they'll have him.


End file.
